


Work From Home

by beyondcanon



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6406900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyondcanon/pseuds/beyondcanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Romcom. Cat's building a new house. Kara is her hot contractor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Hot Contractor

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So. I couldn't help myself, and I'm not even sorry. 
> 
> This is every single hot scenario I could think of, mashed together in one story. I blame Fifth Harmony's [Work From Home](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5GL9JoH4Sws).

# I: The Hot Contractor

It’s _too_ hot.

Cat adjusts her gigantic sunglasses, scowling at the sun.

James, with his impeccable dress shirt, doesn’t seem to mind – he looks fresh and smells like oak trees, and _who_ smells this good on a day like this?

Cat doesn’t know.

Anyway. There’s someone by his side, holding the gigantic floor plans up.

James smiles. “Miss Grant, this is the contractor I’ve told you about.”

The person puts the plans on the table – it’s not who Cat was expecting.

Definitely not a bearded man.

This girl is still her 20s and she’s not particularly imposing, blond hair in a tight ponytail, white muscle shirt, lean body, strong arms glistening in the sun.

“Kara Danvers, this is Cat Grant.” He gestures between them. “Miss Grant, this is Kara.”

The girl smiles like life is not actually a horrible weight on anyone’s shoulders and offers her hand.

Cat shakes it. “A bit young, don’t you think?”

James’ smile doesn’t falter. “Kara and I have worked together for the past four years, Miss Grant. I have complete trust in her work.”

“Don’t trust appearances,” the girl says, looking Cat right in the eye.

The nerve.

She turns to James. “You know my standards, Mr. Olsen.” She gives a side look to the girl. “I don’t care if it’s born out of inexperience or incompetence, I will not tolerate errors and delays. If anything happens, the both of you will be promptly dismissed.”

He doesn’t even flinch – she appreciates this about him. Any other architect would have quit at least two beach houses ago. “Of course, Miss Grant.”

\--

She appears in Cat’s office in unnecessarily tight jeans, surprisingly thick rimmed glasses and a folder under her arm.

“Good morning, Miss Grant,” she says with a bright smile, extending the files.

Cat sets her coffee down and takes them. “And what would this be?”

“I thought you would be interested in having a copy of the permits I’ll submit and the detailed floor plans. I also added a brief CV of the people in my team and the subcontractors I intend on hiring, and a portfolio of the buildings I’ve been the lead contractor in the past two years.”

Cat flips the pages, scanning the document.

“James told me you’d like to host your Christmas dinner in your new home. I believe that’s possible.”

Cat raises her eyebrows. It’s the kind of impossible deadline she lives for.

“I’ll email your secretary a formal written arrangement by the end of the week. It should have a detailed timetable, a material list of everything that will be needed, a tentative payment schedule and warranties. Oh, and a broom clause and my disposal plans for leftover material, of course.”

“Well, Keira, you seem to have thought of everything,” Cat has to give her that.

The girl smiles, chest puffed like she’s never been this pleased.

Her assistant lingers by the door. Cat gestures for the creature to speak.

“Miss Grant, Jon Stewart on the line. Should I ask him to hold?”

“Not at all,” Kara says, turning her body to the assistant and waving her hand. “I was leaving anyway. Jon Stewart is not a guy to be left waiting.” She laugh-snorts a little at her own joke. “I’ll be in touch, Miss Grant.”

She leaves. Cat may or may not stare at her behind as she does so.

\--

Most people have gone for the day.

Cat appreciates the peace on her floor, the TV screens behind her muted as she pours two glasses of bourbon.

Lucy is sitting on the couch, bright red nails against the contract as she reads it carefully.

She accepts the glass without looking up, a pleasant sigh escaping when she takes the first sip. “Michters?”

Cat sits on the armchair across from Lucy. “Yes. 10 year old aged, single barrel.” She drinks slowly, savoring the chocolate notes underneath. She’s such a fucking boss.

“Your taste never fails, Cat.” Lucy grins, scribbling something on the contract. “I only have minor observations. It’s airtight. This Kara person is fully responsible for subcontractors, inspections, and everything else.”

Cat takes the document and skims over the red annotations. Nothing jumps out.

“And, besides my legal counsel, it’s very well planned.” Lucy leans back on the couch and takes another sip. “I had never seen this level of detail before.”

“Very well.”

Cat is suitably impressed.

\--

She signs the contract and releases the funds for construction.

Precisely ten days later, her phone buzzes with a picture. It’s the contractor girl – or, at least, her arm – in a bulldozer, with a broad view of the grounds. The caption: _Getting started!_

Cat doesn’t answer, obviously, because she has better things to do with her time.

\--

Her assistant calls; her last meeting of the day has been cancelled.

She puts her phone down and looks at her watch. There’s time to kill before picking up Carter from school.

She tells the driver to change course.

The building site is filled with people, as expected.

The contractor is casually giving instructions to several people at once, tool belt heavy on her hips. She pats one of the men in the back as she walks around – they respond to her with ease and warmth.

“Miss Grant!” Kara says when their eyes meet, rushing towards Cat. “What a surprise!”

Her jeans are more faded, rugged; her green shirt is both well-worn and form fitting.

However—

The ground is still unstable – they’re doing the foundation, which means Cat’s heels probably aren’t the best choice for that particular setting,

so she trips. Cat Grant, the Queen of All Media, stumbles and nearly falls on someone else’s filthy (dark brown, steel toed) work boots.

The girl catches her, and thank the Lord for reflexes.

Cat ends up in those arms, which are very nice, very firm as they hold her waist, very strong – and she realizes they’re pressed together, breast to breast – Cat looks up and Kara is looking down.

“Careful, Miss Grant.” Kara says softly, taking a step back, hands still on Cat’s waist.

She straightens up until they are no longer touching, not even a fraction of touching, and runs her hand over her dress, smoothing the fabric.

“I’m fine, Keira. Just wanted an update.”

The girl adjusts her glasses and nods, offering her hand as probably support, but that is enough humiliation for a day and Cat ignores the offer.

Is Kara a little flushed? Are her cheeks a little pink?

Definitely not. Nonsense.

Kara clears her throat and rambles about the foundation, and footing, and the concrete, and how everything is perfect and on schedule under the sun.

Cat resists the urge to rolls her eyes.

\--

Kara sends her two photo updates in the meanwhile.

#1 informs her that that first inspection went smoothly.

#2 shows the framing materials arriving.

Cat still doesn’t answer.

\--

Her whiskey consumption goes up by 35% compared to the previous month.

On an unrelated note, she decides a good leader knows when to trust and doesn’t set foot in the construction site for six weeks.

\--

She’s playing Settlers of Catan with Carter, in the house that still reeks of her failed marriage.

She can’t wait until they move out.

He’s telling her about his week, and about the job fair for middle schoolers.

“I thought being an architect or an engineer would be pretty cool, you know, building stuff.” He says, hesitant as he waits for her reaction.

She places a lock of his too-fast growing hair behind his ear. “It is, darling. Very cool.”

He smiles, still staring at their game. “Do you think you could take me to our new house? I want to see what it’s like. Books don’t always tell you what stuff is really like.”

Such a bright boy. “Of course. I’ll get the architect himself to explain everything to you, okay?”

He nods.

She wins. He gets an extra serving of Ben & Jerry’s for his excellent game strategy.

\--

She comes back to the construction site, _not_ in stiletto heels this time.

It’s starting to look like a house – the beginning of walls and roof structure, distributing the space of what’s going to be a new start.

Cat sees the contractor girl handling some kind of power tool against the plywood, drilling holes or something. She’s wearing safety helmet and goggles.

Her entire body is tense against the equipment, jaw set and arms rippling with the effort.

Cat licks her upper lip.

The girl takes a close look at her work, brow furrowing in concentration, before nodding to herself and setting the tool aside.

Cat clears her throat.

The girl jumps a little, placing a gloved hand on her chest. “Miss Grant! You surprised me!”

Cat smirks. Always good to keep people on their toes. “I was hoping you’d give me a tour.”

“Of course, Miss Grant.” The girl takes her gloves off and sticks them on her tool belt, smiling so goddamn sincerely. “Anything you want.”

Cat measures her up for a moment before allowing her to lead the way.

She finds 14 mistakes, and points each of them in great detail.

Kara’s smile falters.

\--

What’s-her-name from the legal department leaves sniffling and choking a sob.

It’s the second person she fires today.

Cat rubs her temples, pours herself another dose of bourbon.

Incompetent minions everywhere.

\--

James is nowhere to be seen.

The contractor girl, on the other hand, is there, a box of pastries on her lap. She waves at them. “Good afternoon, Miss Grant!”

Cat’s hands are solid and warm on her boy’s shoulders, as he looks around at everything and everyone at once.

“You must be Carter.” The girls says, walking up to them, horrendous pastry box still in hand. “I’m Kara.”

Carter just looks down and clings harder to his backpack.

The girl thinks for a moment, takes a bear claw and nibbles it. “You know, Carter, I might be a little old, but back in my day kids your age could speak.”

Carter raises his eyes to meet hers for just a second; he’s holding back a smile. “Hi, Kara.”

Cat feels herself smiling.

“That’s more like it,” Kara beams, taking a huge bite of her bear claw. “James is stuck in traffic, but he told me to show you around before he explains you all the science. Follow me!”

Cat lingers in the background and lets Carter’s own curiosity lead the way.

\--

“We are in the framing stage, Carter. It’s like the house is…” Kara leans into the boy. “Naked.”

There it is, that small smile again.

Kara explains the whole thing: foundation, framing, insulation, drywall, textures and floorings, and many other excessively boring details.

Carter listens with rapt attention, fingers touching the framing as they walk.

Kara splits the last of her pastries in two and offers to Carter. “Donut?”

He looks at Cat, asking for permission.

Well. “As long as you promise it won’t spoil your appetite.”

“Thanks!” He smiles, taking the donut and mimicking Kara’s shoving-food-in-her-face routine. “Best mom ever,” he says, still chewing on his food.

Kara pretends to be offended, mimicking him back. “Best mom ever.”

Children.

Cat rolls her eyes, but there’s no bite to it.

\--

James finally arrives; Carter asks Kara to hang out with them anyway.

She doesn’t say no.

\--

“C’mon, we’re going out.”

Lucy enters her office at 9pm on a Thursday night, red dress, red lips and a frustrated face.

“Your assistant told me you’ve approved the layouts.” She doesn’t even blink when Cat purses her lip, which is a great testament of courage. “You are a gorgeous single woman who needs to stop hiding behind work. There is nothing to be done here, Carter is with his father and I _need_ to have impossibly handsome men serving me.”

Cat groans. She can’t argue with that logic. “Fine. Call the driver.”

Lucy nods triumphantly. “We’re getting _so_ hammered. I can’t wait.”

\--

This DEO place is packed.

Lucy links their arms together and leads them through the crowd.

The bartender is a tall man with tattoos, the kind to make Lucy’s panties spontaneously combust. He smiles at them.

Lucy leans into Cat. “That man is the answer to all my problems. I’m going to climb that like a tree.”

Cat bites back the smile. “I’m not nearly as drunk as I should be for this conversation.”

“Let’s fix that.” Lucy gestures to someone at the back.

\--

“Miss Grant, how nice to see you.”

Cat turns and it’s Contractor Girl. “Keira?”

Kara can play the Hot Bartender type, that’s for sure.

Her hair is down, soft curves falling on her exposed shoulders – drawing attention to the enticing display of cleavage.

She’s not wearing glasses, her dress leaves little to imagination and her lips are a deep, deep red.

It’s quite the look for tips.

Lucy looks at Cat, looks at Kara. “Do you know each other?”

Kara doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes. I am Miss Grant’s contractor.”

“And waitress,” Cat says dumbly.

Kara gives that puppy dog smile and shrugs. “My sister owns this place. I give her a hand sometimes.”

Lucy smiles like she’s been possessed by the Cheshire Cat. “A woman of many talents. Nice to meet you, Kara. I’m Lucy.”

They shake hands.

“You’re so nice, Lucy.” Kara places a lock of hair behind her ear, further exposing the curve of her neck to anyone who bothers to look. “So, what can I get you both?”

“Two dry martinis, please.”

“Be back in a moment.” Kara and her tight little ass leave.

\--

Of course that girl would be the most attentive, pleasant waitress of all ages.

“Another?” She arrives just as Cat is taking her last sip of martini #3.

“Yes. Just—“ Cat takes the olive and takes a bite.

Kara’s eyes drift down as Cat’s lips wrap around the olive.

“There you go,” Lucy cuts in, pushing the glasses aside. “Keep them coming, Kara The Contractor.”

She barely waits until the girl leaves. “I didn’t know you had a thing for construction types.”

Cat does not dignify that with an answer.

“I mean, I get it: Carter’s dad is a pompous rich asshole, and a little change is good, right?” She takes a tiny mirror out of her purse and her lipstick. “This Kara is _fine_. And into you. You should go for it.”

“Lucy, I think you have finally lost your mind,” Cat answers, as cool as ice.

“You wish,” she answers as she applies her lipstick. “You should do that olive thing again. She looked so thirsty. Like you’re the presidency and she’s a Clinton.”

Kara comes back with their drinks. “Enjoy!”

Lucy opens her mouth to say something, but Cat kicks her ankle under the table.

\--

She repeats the olive thing.

Kara stares.

\--

“Imma do it.” Lucy smacks her fist on the table. She’s already slurring a little. “The bar is almost closing. It’s now or never.”

“You won’t.” Cat sips her sixth martini. She’s feeling all sorts of fuzzy and light headed.

It’s perfect.

“Is that a dare?” Lucy realizes something, stops for a moment. “Wanna bet?”

Cat leans forward. “That will be the easiest competition in recorded history, and that includes that time you played Settlers of Catan against my son and lost.”

Lucy scoffs and stands up. “If I get that demigod’s number, you’ll have to kiss Kara. No excuse.”

Cat shrugs, feigning indifference. “Fine.”

\--

Lucy gets the goddamn phone number, scribbled on her arm like it’s a fucking romcom. She’s smiling too much.

Cat rolls her eyes. “Fine, Katherine Heigl. I’ll show you how wrong you are.”

This is going to be ridiculous and she’ll have to fire a perfectly good contractor to get over the sheer embarrassment.

Or maybe not.

Kara is by the counter, talking to one of the bartenders.

“Kiera.” Cat says, licking her own lips and taking a deep breath.

The girl turns to her, an easy grin on her face. “How can I help you, Miss Grant?”

There is nothing she could say that wouldn’t sound stupid, so she just does it:

she joins their lips softly, hands on Kara’s hips.

Kara freezes.

Fuck.

Cat is getting rejected by someone half her age. She’ll have to hire a trained assassin so that this situation is buried and forgotten—

But then Kara lets out the tiniest sigh and her body relaxes, brushing against Cat’s so very invitingly.

Cat leans back a bit, breaking contact.

Kara promptly leans forward, kissing Cat’s upper lip slowly.

It’s all she needs. In a heartbeat she’s pressing Kara against the counter, enjoying the little surprised gasp she makes, how their bodies fit together.

Kara parts her lips and Cat deepens the kiss, hands finding the small of Kara’s back. Kara tilts her head, hand cupping Cat’s neck to tether her to the kiss, pulling her closer.

It’s wet and slow, lazy tongues rubbing against each other, and her entire body drums with it as she drinks in Kara’s every shaky breath.

Kara scratches the back of Cat’s neck at the same time she bites Cat’s lower lip; the moan that leaves Cat’s lips is deep and unexpected.

She breaks the kiss, tip of her tongue running on her lower lip.

Kara looks at her in a haze, arms still around Cat’s neck and lips wonderfully swollen.

Cat blinks slowly and takes another step back.

She goes back to her table.

\--

She’s still breathless and flushed, like a teenager after their first date.

Lucy grabs her arm and pulls her conspiratorially aside. “Cat, I’m 150% straight but that was The Hottest Thing I’ve seen all year.”

She can’t avoid the little grin that forms on the corners of her mouth. “I’m excellent at everything I do, darling.”

Lucy looks over Cat’s shoulder. “Oh God, she’s staring.” She looks back to Cat. “What do we do?” She looks at Kara again. “She’s standing there. Just standing there. Like she’s been hit by the train crash of the century.”

“Now we leave.” Cat takes her wallet and places on the table what’s probably twice their tab.

Lucy’s eyes are wide. “You are _such_ a BAMF.”

\--

They make it past the door when someone grabs Cat’s arms, turning her around.

“Not so fast.”

It’s Kara.

Cat’s heart beats faster. Her mouth dries.

Kara kisses her right there, in the middle of the street, just outside the bar. She presses her entire body to Cat’s, sandwiching her to her car, and Cat’s head is already spinning when she holds on to Kara’s shoulders for support.

Kara explores Cat’s mouth thoroughly, all tongue and bite, until Cat feels she can’t possibly breathe. When they break apart, it’s Cat who grabs onto the straps of her dress to pull her in again, moaning loud into the kiss when Kara pushes her thigh forward.

It’s not anywhere close to what she _needs_ right now, but her hips move of their own accord and she bites Kara’s lower lip, demanding.

Kara moans and takes a step back.

Her hair is wonderfully disheveled, her lipstick is a mess.  She looks drop dead gorgeous.

“That’s better,” she says with a pleasant sigh. “See you around, Miss Grant.”

Cat watches her leave, mouth parted open in disbelief.

Inside the car, Lucy is _squealing_.


	2. The Unnatainable Employer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. The response to this has been Aca-mazing. I would kiss every single one of you on the mouth.

#  **II: The Unattainable Employer**

 

Hank serves her a beer. “Don’t do it. Don’t text her.”

Kara whines, lowers her head to the counter, and shoves her phone in his hands.

Alex appears by her side, runs a hand through Kara’s hair, scratches her scalp just how she likes it. “He is right, you know.”

Kara groans and tries to shove her aside with her shoulder, but Alex is built like a ninja and doesn’t bulge. “The ball is in her court now, little sis’.”

“It’s been a week!” Kara says, voice higher than usual. She chugs her beer. “You don’t just kiss people and leave! Who does that? I am not a bad kisser!”

“Maybe she doesn’t know what to do,” Hank offers, cleaning the counter in swift gestures. He’s smiling, just a little bit, like he’s having _fun_ with this.

Kara sets her bottle on the table with a thud. “She is Cat Grant, the Queen of All Media! Have you read her Wikipedia page? The woman does _not_ know doubt.”

Astra shows up behind Alex, an easy hand on Alex’s hip. “Maybe you should step up your game, as they say.”

Kara frowns. “I don’t get it.”

Astra kisses the spot just below Alex’s ear. “It’s all a matter of strategy, little one. She’s trying to remain in control of the situation. A woman like that is used to having people obeying her every wish.”

Makes sense. Even Hank stops to listen.

“You have to break her resolve, then. Seduce her, taunt her, until she can’t take it anymore and gives in to the Danvers charm.”

Alex rolls her eyes, but there is no bite to it. “You think you’re smooth, don’t you?”

Astra shrugs.

\--

Two weeks go by.

She sends her usual photo updates to inform Miss Grant on the electrical and plumbing subcontractors.

Miss Grant does not answer.

\--

It’s still weird to see Astra in anything but dark and casually menacing business outfits. She looks like an alien in a bright orange top and gym shorts.

“Focus.” She says, watching over Kara. “You’re not breathing properly.”

“Yes, General.” Of course Kara is not breathing properly. She is lifting 100 pounds. She is sweating and she wants to _die_.

Fifteen more repetitions and Astra seems satisfied. Kara huffs and almost, _almost_ gets in a fetal position on the floor.

Astra offers her hand to help Kara stand up. “Time for crunches, little one.”

Kara nods in defeat.

“Your media queen won’t be able to help herself when we’re through,” Astra says, more to herself than anyone else.

Kara blushes anyway.

\--

She already had to fire two people that day.

She sighs, running her upper arm on her forehead to catch the droplets of sweat.

She hates firing people, but she can’t risk giving Miss Grant anything less than perfection. She hasn’t fallen behind schedule so far, and she’s not about to start now.

She positions the wood saw and stretches her fingers. Her gloves itch.

“Kara!”

She looks back and it’s Carter, running in her direction.

She smiles and takes a step back from the equipment. “Hi, Carter! What are you doing around here?”

“I brought you donuts!” He offers the cardboard box, smiling bright. “To thank you for your help with my project.” He spots James, waves. “For you too, James!”

Kara takes her gloves off and opens the box. “Chocolate frosting?! How did you know?”

Carter shrugs, holding on to the straps of his backpack. “Mom says I can read people very well.”

Kara takes a bite of the first donut. Man, is she hungry.

“Hello, Kiera.”

Kara swallows dry. “Hello, Miss Grant.”

She’s suddenly very aware of her dirty overalls – and grey stringer shirt generously displaying her collarbone, cleavage, arms, ribs and black top.

Cat Grant is staring, eyes roaming over Kara’s body.

Kara takes a deep breath and unnecessarily flexes her biceps.

Cat bites her upper lip, eyes lingering.

“I have something for you guys!” Carter rummages his backpack, blissfully unaware. “Here!” He says, taking two envelopes out. “One for Mr. James Olsen, and another for Ms. Kara Danvers.”

They take an envelope each. It’s a sturdy, expensive paper, the kind Kara wouldn’t be able to afford for her own wedding.

Carter doesn’t wait for them to read the invitation. “It’s for my job fair this Saturday. I thought it would be cool if you guys showed up.” He looks at his mom, who nods approvingly. “If you want to, I mean. It’s a free country.”

Cutie.

\--

 

\--

It’s a bright day:

The fair is taking place in the gardens. There’s a pleasant crowd walking around, a Ben & Jerry’s ice cream cart, and tons of kids and parents walking around and interacting.

“There they are,” James says, nodding to their right.

When Kara sees Cat, it’s just— wow.

Much wow. Nice. Cool. Like, _nice._

Cat’s wearing a white button up, a few buttons undone showing off her collarbone and upper curve of her breasts like it’s no big deal, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and beige linen pants.

It’s the least threatening Kara’s ever seen her.

James nudges her forward to make her interact like a normal human being.

Kara adjusts her glasses and keeps walking. She does not blush, not even a little bit.

Carter walks in their direction, Star Wars t-shirt and white sneakers. “You guys came! That’s so cool!”

He hugs Kara – which is weird, but okay, so she squeezes him a little bit and makes squeaky noises. “I told you we would come, Little Grant!”

James looks at her a little funny.

Did she just say that? Little Grant? Did it just fall out of her mouth?

Oh God.

\--

They listen to Carter’s presentation.

He’s a well-mannered boy, who’s clearly a little anxious with their attention but still keeps perfect rhythm and diction to his speech.

He’s got floor plans, graphics, and photos to prove his argument, neatly organized.

Cat praises him when he’s done, placing a lock of his hair behind his ear, all soft smiles and sweetness.

It feels like intruding on a private, tender moment.

\--

They’re eating Ben & Jerry’s – well, Carter and Kara are. James had to leave and Cat hasn’t had ice cream since the first Bush presidency.

So she just keeps them company, cleaning the corner of Carter’s mouth with a tissue even if he complains “he’s not a baby anymore”.

Oh, Carter is going to be a Real Teen soon.

Kara can’t help the soft, understanding look she has on her face when her eyes meet Cat’s.

They’re both unguarded, unprepared for it, and Cat promptly looks away.

\--

A middle aged, gorgeous black woman approaches them.

“Miss Grant, I just wanted to greet you.” She shakes hands with Cat. “Carter, I loved your presentation.”

He doesn’t meet her eyes, but he’s got a small pleased smile that betrays him. “Kara, this is my teacher, Miss Torres. Miss Torres, this is Kara.”

Kara grins. “Very nice to meet you.” Miss Torres’ handshake is firm and direct, and her smile is sincere.

“Very nice to meet you, Kara. I didn’t know Carter had older siblings.”

Kara frowns.

Cat frowns.

Carter frowns?

What? Carter’s sister, Cat’s daug—

Kara points to herself, half laughs, half scoffs. “Me? That’s crazy! I’m not—“

“We’re not—“ Carter shakes his head, grabs Kara’s forearm.

Cat gives Miss Torres a glare to kick start the next ice age.

“No DNA shared here.” Kara clears her throat, gesturing between Cat and her. “Not at all.”

“Oh,” Miss Torres’ eyes widen; her mouth opens and closes a few times. “I apologize for the misunderstanding.” She clasps her hands together and takes a deep breath. “We are proud to be very inclusive in this institution, and that counts for parents _and_ their kids. No LGBTphobia around here, no sir! Madams! You both can do what you want. Consenting adults, what a beauty. Love is love, those are the times! The XXIst century has arrived. I myself am bisexual. Gender is a social construct, after all. Have you read Butler? No? Maybe bell hooks? I recommend it. Amazing. Great conversation.” She smiles too bright. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to the director. Very nice meeting you, Kara. Have a good day!”

Kara’s face is burning up. She looks at Carter, who’s very confused, and then Cat, who’s looking at the place where Miss Torres was, before she realizes her ice cream cone is melting all over her hand.

“I’ve got to—“ She clears her throat. “Bathroom!”

She leaves.

\--

She washes her hands, washes her face, dries her face, washes her face again.

Her mind is in a loop.

Did that really happen? Had someone seen Cat Grant, The Queen of All Media and thought she was a match for Kara Danvers?

Kara looks at her reflection in the mirror – young and plain, public school kid, college dropout. Definitely _not_ Cat Grant dating material.

Cat enters the bathroom, face unreadable. “If you’re done having a seizure, my son would like to talk to you.”

If only the Earth could swallow Kara whole. Just for a day or two. It’s not too much to ask.

\--

Carter looks solemn.

He pats the space by his side on the bench. “Kara, please sit.”

How had her life come to this?  What is happening?

Kara sits down, trying not to burn under Cat’s stare. “Yes, Carter?”

“Do you have a problem with gay people?”

“What? I—“ Kara scoffs, adjusts her glasses. “No! Not at all!”

“Because it’s okay, you know. My friend Jimmy from swimming class is gay and he’s cool. He says I might be asexual, but it’s still early to tell.” He lowers his voice. “Mom is bisexual, too. It’s not a big deal.”

Kara takes a deep breath, gets a grip, places a hand on Carter’s shoulders. “Carter. I’m a lesbian. Always liked girls. Boys are gross, no offense.”

“None taken.” Carter thinks for a moment. “So what’s the problem?”

Kara licks her lips, takes another deep breath. “Your mom’s my boss. She pays my bills. I’m only here in your fancy, cool school because you invited me, Little Grant. So it’s weird. I’m sorry I reacted badly.”

God, how much she hates being an adult.

She squeezes Carter’s shoulder to get him to look at her again. “Besides, have you _seen_ your mom? She’s the best. Totally out of my league.”

He makes a face. “Gross.”

Kara doesn't have the guts to look in Cat's direction.

\--

A few days later, she still has her stomach churning when she thinks of The Job Fair Episode.

God.

Her shirt is sticking to her body with semi-dried sweat, she needs to wash her hair ASAP, and she smells like she’s been in a construction site all day.

She’s scrubbing her shoes clean with an old cloth. Alex and Astra are not the ones to accept muddy, dirty boots.

All she wants is a shower.

She sees, instead, expensive navy pump shoes. Her eyes shoot up to see a displeased Cat Grant with a distracting thigh gap on her insanely expensive looking dress.

“My son is under the impression you didn’t like his school event, or that he did something wrong.”

“Miss Grant, I—“ She runs one hand on her face, mind fuzzy with exhaustion. “That’s not what I said.”

“I pay little attention to hurtful things about me, Keira, but I do not take well to people making my son feel inadequate.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara answers, looking up with as much honesty and openness as she can muster at such an hour. “Your son is a brilliant kid. I enjoyed being there.”

A heavy silence falls.

Cat purses her lips. “The problem rests with me, then,” she says with a coolness so deep Kara shivers. “Being romantically associated with a much older woman—“

“Miss Grant,” Kara interrupts, standing up with a frustrated sigh and throwing the cloth on the floor. “You are an award winning journalist, head of a multimillion-dollar communication group, Queen of All Media, and one of Forbes’ Most Powerful Women of the Year since, I don’t know, forever.”

Cat, for once, remains silent, leaning against the doorframe.

“You have a great kid, who’s smart and perceptive. He knows what an asexual is and he’s what, 12? When I first heard that word I could already legally drink, you know.”

She should probably stop talking. She doesn’t.

“The school’s biggest fear is to be seen as homophobic.” Kara sighs, sits down again, frees her hair from her ponytail. “Ironic, if you think how much time I spent locked in real life closets, bullied and beaten.”

“Look at you, Miss Grant.” She looks into Cat’s eyes. “And look at me.” She points to herself, dirty clothes and not much to offer. “The comparison is not fair, is it? We don’t stand on the same ground.”

She offers a tight-lipped smile. “I’m going to make it up to Carter. I’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

“Stop.” Cat doesn’t need to raise her voice to be commanding: Kara closes her mouth at once.

Cat grabs a fistful of Kara’s shirt and pulls it, forcing Kara to stand up.

She pulls Kara even closer, but not enough for them to be actually touching – thank God, because the last thing Kara wants is her work pants ruining Cat’s tempting, delicate dress.

Their height difference is still there, in spite of Cat’s heels. Kara looks down, helpless and unable to move. She can feel Cat’s warmth, her sophisticated fragrance, the intensity of her gaze.

Cat lets go of Kara’s shirt, palm resting against Kara’s chest. Can she feel Kara’s heart, beating faster by the second?

“The thing is,” she finally says, lips brushing against Kara’s earlobe, “you don’t get to decide what I want, or when I want it.”

Kara’s heart becomes the world’s biggest percussion band.

Cat joins their lips briefly – wonderfully – sucking on Kara’s lower lip before pushing Kara back. “Go now. Take a shower. Use conditioner, for God’s sake.”

Kara blinks twice, frowning.

Cat raises one eyebrow. “That’s all for tonight. Chop, chop.”

Kara obeys.

\--

She keeps Astra and Alex awake for three extra hours because WHAT IS HAPPENING??????????????

\--

It’s night, and everyone has left for the day.

The silence feels great as she triple checks the entire inventory – Cat wouldn’t accept any gaps in her budget sheet, like missing materials and small thefts.

There’s a noise.

Her heartbeat picks up; she holds her breath and stops, focuses on her surroundings.

Someone is there, for sure. Probably more than one someone. Male. She hears their voices.

She pictures the grounds in her head, but there’s no way she can leave unnoticed. Construction thieves don’t take too well on being interrupted, as far as she knows.

Damn.

She dials 911 as quietly as she can. On instinct, she takes a piece of wood, swings it, feels its weight in her hand.

There is no way this ends well.

\--

One ambulance and two police cars later:

Three bulky, beat up men are being taken into custody;

The property has suffered only minor damage;

Kara, on the other hand, got bruised ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a minor ligament torn on her hand, and

An incredibly upset superior.

“I did not take you to be the daft, impulsive vigilante type, Keira.”

Kara groans, an ice pack on her side. Breathing _hurts_.

“I do not appreciate having to leave a meeting for foolish displays of brute force. I have layouts that need to go to print in,” Cat looks at the gold watch on her wrist, “two hours. What were you _thinking_?”

“I don’t know,” Kara breathes out through gritted teeth, staring hard at her own shoes. “I had to do something.”

“Look at me, goddammit.” Kara obeys. Cat’s nostrils are flaring, her chest is moving like she’s out of breath, and she’s clutching her phone like she wants to break it in half. “Don’t do it again. If security is an issue, I can have 24-hour rounds set up in less than 20 minutes.” She takes a deep breath. “Am I clear?”

Kara nods, looks to the ground again in defeat. Alex couldn’t arrive any earlier. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Kara.” Cat tilts her chin up. She’s standing closer. “Don’t ma’am me. This is not the Old West.”

Kara nods shortly, breath caught in her throat.

“If,” Cat’s voice drops dangerously, “I see you working in any capacity in the next two weeks, I’ll tie you to your bed myself.” She looks at Kara’s mouth for a brief second before locking eyes again. “And not in the nice way.”

“Yes, Miss Grant.” Kara swallows dry. “Anything you want.”

Cat takes a step back, satisfied. “My favorite words.” She says it so only Kara can hear, posture shifting into something feline as she turns around and leaves.

Kara watches the sway of her hips, jaw firmly planted on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://beyondcanon.tumblr.com/). Talk dirty to me.
> 
> LET'S PLAY A GAME. For every comment on this, I'll write MORE porn for chapter 5. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Whadda say?


	3. The Ugly Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what? You should probably flood [ my ask on Tumblr](http://beyondcanon.tumblr.com/ask) and ask me for headcanons on this verse. Any headcanons. Anything. Don't make me beg.

#  **III: The Ugly Feeling**

It’s a true  _ via crucis _ , replacing a competent employee.

She’s gotten used to Kara’s fix-it attitude, ruthless efficiency, and sheer determination to please.

Now she’s left with a pedestrian subcontractor and the tragedy of a late schedule.

Cat’s assistant now calls James twice a day for updates, and she has to send the creature on random errands to the site so she has an excuse to make sure Kara really isn’t there, disobeying orders.

It’s all a burden, really.

\--

Cat massages her temple, throwing her glasses on the coffee table.

Carter’s gone to bed without making a fuss, thankfully – she’s got the penthouse to herself and no urgent calls on her work phone.

She wiggles free of her Louboutin’s, moaning in pleasure when her bare feet touch the floor. Smoothly, she unzips her dress and lets it pool on the floor.

She runs a bath, pours herself some white wine, and plays Miles Davis to set the mood.

The water is the perfect warmth – not scalding, just relaxing. Cat sighs, nursing her glass.

Just what she needs after a long day.

She’s pouring herself a second glass when she checks her phone. Not one of Kara’s silly updates since before the robbery incident.

She takes a sip, stares at Kara’s name on the screen, and hits call.

Kara answers in the first ring, of course.

“Miss Grant,” she says, sounding tired.

“Keira.” Cat answers, biting her lip.

“I haven’t been to work, like you told me to.”

This makes Cat very satisfied. She sinks deeper into the water. “I know. I keep tabs.” She runs her palm over her thighs. “I expected updates on your recovery.”

Cat can hear Kara take a deep breath.

“I didn’t realize.”

“So,” Cat continues, nonchalant. “How are you?” She rests her head back on the tub.

“Restless. Three weeks is too long.” Is that sound the rustling of sheets? Is Kara talking to her in bed? “I’ll be back on my feet by Monday.”

Cat hums, the tips of her fingers drawing circles on her stomach. “The mediocrity of your replacement is astounding. I’d much rather have you.”

Kara clears her throat. “Is there anything else you want me to do, Miss Grant?” Kara’s voice gets a little breathless.

“Oh, several things,” Cat breathes out, hand darting lower, legs spreading. “But I believe that’s all for now.”

“Good evening, Miss Grant.”

Cat makes a sound of agreement, biting her own lip. “See you next week.”

\--

She’s watching a movie with Carter when her phone buzzes.

It’s Kara’s hand, looking brand new – no purple marks, strange swellings and superficial cuts.

She answers the message, this time:  _ Much better. _

\--

Sunny Danvers is barking orders.

“Let’s get back on track, guys!” Her arm is in a sling, but she’s moving fluidly through the site like she owns it. “I want us on schedule by the end of the month!”

This is an interesting development.

Kara shows up on the ceiling to correct two workers in their handling of the tools, chastising them both for their lack of attention.

She sees Cat and her face lights up as she leans forward. “Miss Grant!”

“Keira.” Cat looks up, very pleased at the angle.

“I’ll be down in a second!” Kara yells, gesturing for Cat to wait.

\--

Kara has replaced a third of the team, updated the spreadsheets, and it’s barely Wednesday.

She leads the way. Cat takes great pleasure in standing closer than necessary and watching her squirm.

“I’ve postponed the deliveries so I can,” she stops in her tracks when Cat leans into her, “d-double check the plumbing and electrical systems. Wouldn’t want you to find anything amiss after you move.”

Cat nods. It’s very refreshing to listen to a person who knows what they’re doing.

“The drywall is done, and we should get back to the interior trims next week. I’m hoping we’ll get back on schedule, but hiring extra crew for the exterior finishes and grading might be a necessity.”

“We’ll see about that,” Cat answers, unwilling to give in just yet.

Kara gives her a soft smile, like she knows what Cat really means. “That’s it, Miss Grant.”

They are standing in front of each other in the middle of her soon-to-be kitchen.

“Your recovery time has been impressive.”

“I heal fast.” Kara looks at Cat, a few locks of hair falling on her face. She clears her throat, takes a step forward. “You should see it for yourself.”

Cat looks down at Kara’s torso. Her nod is barely perceptible.

Kara checks to see if they’re alone. She grabs her loose t-shirt and pulls it up, inch by inch. Cat can’t take her eyes off the smooth skin, the appetizing abs, her ribs – not a sign of any fight club injuries besides some swelling, thankfully.

Kara stops when the underside of her bra becomes visible, breathing heavily.

Cat licks her lips and stretches her hand, fingers brushing over Kara’s ribs.

Kara’s body answers promptly to her touch. Cat touches more firmly, slowly running her palm on Kara’s waist. She reaches Kara’s stomach, rests her hand on those firm abs. On a whim, she sinks her nails, dragging them down and around Kara’s navel.

Kara gasps, lips parted open.

So willing. Cat smiles, satisfied.

\--

She absolutely does not waste her time thinking about having Kara against a wall. She’s got other things to do.

\--

 

\--

Kara is wearing an honest-to-God SpongeBob t-shirt.

Unbelievable.

Carter, obviously, is delighted. “Kara!” He skips in her direction, pile of comic books in Cat’s arms forgotten. “Cool shirt.”

Kara smiles, smoothes the fabric of her shirt. “Thanks, Little Grant.”

Cat places the comic books aside, watching her son for his reaction to the nickname.

He nods, a little jumpy, but happy. “You’re welcome.”

“Miss Grant,” Kara greets when Cat walks up to them, a secret smile just between the two of them.

Carter points to Kara’s sling. “What happened to your arm?”

Cat runs a hand through his hair. “Darling, that’s not polite to ask.”

Kara waves her off. “No, it’s okay. I fell down the stairs.” She looks at Cat for approval; Cat nods. “Nothing serious.”

Carter thinks before agreeing, storing the information in his beautiful brain.

Kara leans forward so she’s eye-to-eye with Carter. “But I’m actually here to give you something.” She reaches into her bag and takes out a gift.

He promptly tears the bright red gift wrap apart, revealing a limited edition action figure of Rey. “Wow! Her toys are  _ so _ hard to find!”

“I know,” Kara answers, chest puffed like she’s won an award. “I thought a true Star Wars fan would appreciate it.”

“Thanks!” Carter moves forward and hugs Kara.

Kara winces, a flash of pain on her face – Cat moves forward on instinct, to tell her son to take it easy – but Kara gestures for her to stop and ruffles Carter’s hair.

Idiot girl.

When he releases her, she smiles, all pain gone from her face. “Consider it my apology for being weird at your job fair, okay?”

Carter clings to the box. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” she answers, staring straight at Cat. She thinks for a moment, turns conspiratorially to Carter. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

He nods, leaning forward.

“You know how people say “adults” like everyone is a grown up?” Kara shuffles the bag on her good shoulder. “The truth is, there are levels. Some adults are like Charizard adults. They’re strong, powerful and they’ve  _ got it _ . Me? I’m a tiny baby Charmander adult. Sometimes I’m weird and cranky and I don’t know what to do.”

“I think I get it.” Carter frowns. “Being a grown up is hard.”

“I don’t recommend it. Avoid it while you can.” Kara answers, very serious, but Carter is already giggling.

The girl is  _ good. _

Kara winks at Cat. Cat ignores it. “Have fun with your mom. I’ll see you around.”

“Do you have to go already?” Carter gives his best pleading look.

Kara nods, but she does look sad about it. “My sister is making lasagna. She’ll kill me if I’m late. Or worse, throw me out.”

Cat can see the ridiculous shirt from miles away as Kara leaves.

\--

\--

She’d much rather never acknowledge his existence again.

Her ex-husband, a brand new fiancée on his arm, raises his champagne glass in Cat’s direction. He still has the same thousand-dollar haircut, the same sturdy watch on his wrist, the same impeccable fit to his suit.

Cat wishes she could disappear into thin air, just this once.

Alas, the goddesses do not grant her wish.

She raises her glass and plasters on the best smile she can muster.

\--

He comes to talk to her, decorative woman still on his arm.

“Congratulations, Cat,” he says, touching her arm. “You deserved that award.”

She moves away, ever so slightly. “I did.”

“Have you met Rachel? We just got engaged.” He smiles like he’s in love. It’s the most dishonest thing since Bush started the war on terror.

He’s just showing off. She can still read him like a book.

“I hadn’t heard,” she lies. “I only follow relevant news.”

Lucy appears out of thin air, fingers wrapping around Cat’s wrist. 

“You’re here!” She looks at Cat’s ex and his fiancée, smile becoming theatrically false. “Hello. People who are not Cat Grant.”

“The mayor is looking for you,” Lucy continues, looking at Cat again. “Exciting developments on your run for Senator, he said.”

The golden couple looks at Cat like she’s the next Obama. It’s quite the rush. 

Cat nods before excusing herself.

\--

“I’m not running for Senator.”

“I know, darling.” Lucy scoffs, takes two glasses of whiskey from a passing bartender and offers Cat one. “But I like the rumours so much. The asshole’s face was epic.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Cat smiles, satisfied, and downs her drink in one smooth gulp. Lucy offers her the other.

Cat could kiss her on the mouth. “You know me so well.”

“It’s been 15 years, you know.” Lucy gives her a loving look that lasts exactly 2.6 seconds. “It’s also been 33 very long minutes in this after party.” She takes a glass of wine from a passing bartender so quick the man doesn’t even notice. “He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is here. You’re pissed. My dad has been giving me bothersome looks all night. I don’t want to know why. I say we leave.”

Cat nods. “That’s why I keep you around.”

\--

She calls her assistant and fires her for not checking whether her ex-husband would attend the same event as her.

\--

Lucy suggests; Cat doesn’t say no.

They end up at the DEO again, overdressed for the occasion and not giving a single fuck.

Not that she knows she’ll meet Kara there or not.

She sees her, anyway, at a table by the back.

There are several people, laughing and talking simultaneously, parallel conversations and side exclamations and bottles of beer being drained.

James is there, sitting by Kara’s side and looking awfully cozy, arm draped on the back of Kara’s chair, laughing along with everyone.

James, who arrived with Kara at the job fair, who works with Kara, who’s so damn handsome and nice and barely older than Kara at all.

Cat purses her lips, nostrils flaring.

Lucy squeezes Cat’s arm. “Who is that man-god sitting next to your construction girl?”

“My architect,” Cat answers, unable to break contact with their quaint little scene. “I’ve told you about him.”

“Is your real criteria attractiveness?” Lucy licks her upper lip. “’Cause I’m all for it.”

“Lucy. Can you. Not?” Cat glares, breathing slowly like her therapist told her to.

It doesn’t work.

Lucy turns to her, frowning. “Cat, are you…”

“Don’t say a fucking word,” she answers, ice cold, as she turns to the counter and orders a glass of whiskey.

Lucy follows her, orders herself a dry martini. She says nothing, but she gives Cat one of her meaningful, pointed, you-beautiful-fool looks Cat despises.

She orders yet another drink.

\--

Of course the  _ both  _ of them come to greet her.

“Hello, Miss Grant,” James says politely, long sleeved shirt clinging to his every muscle, the perfect hint of aftershave and stupid smile.

Kara stands right next to him, arms brushing against each other. “Hi, Miss Grant. Lucy.”

Cat sips her whiskey.

Lucy steps in and smiles appreciatively. “Nice shirt, Kara.”

It’s not—a millennial cropped top absurdity, paired with faded jeans like the 1990s are still well and alive. It belongs in a trash can.

“Thanks, Lucy!” Kara smiles, cheeks flushing with the attention. “This is James, Miss Grant’s architect and my friend.”

“Nice to meet you, James,” Lucy nearly purrs, eyes locked with James – who’s smiling right back.

Cat can’t even blame him; there’s something hypnotizing about Lucy.

Kara lets them be and steps closer to Cat, smiling warmly. “I’m officially sling-free.” She makes a show of moving her shoulder and stretching her arm. “See? Brand new.”

“No need to chaperone me, Kiera.” Cat finishes her drink, sets the glass on the counter with unnecessary force. “You can go back to  _ James _ and your little friends. Have fun.”

If she still had a soul, she’d feel guilty for how Kara looks at her.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she says, standing up.

This has been the very definition of an awful idea.

\--

The bathroom is empty, thankfully.

Cat sighs, applies lipstick, and stares at herself in the mirror.

Kara enters the bathroom and pushes the door close. Cat doesn’t turn around, just stares at Kara’s reflection in the mirror.

She feels hyper-aware. She can feel the cold air, the traces of Kara’s sweet perfume, and the muffled noises of people drinking and chatting.

“You’re jealous.” Kara says, softly, tentatively, like one deals with an injured bird.

It’s mildly offensive.

“Don’t be absurd,” Cat answers, but the delivery is not as sharp as she intends. She doesn’t turn around, but she doesn’t look away from Kara’s reflection.

Kara remains glued to her spot, leaning her back against the door.

She watches Cat for a long moment before speaking again.

“Like anybody could ever compare.”

Cat’s stomach flutters; it’s unpleasant and uncalled for. She takes a deep breath. “Come here.” She places both hands on the sink to anchor herself to reality.

Kara takes those few steps forward, slow but sure. She stops right behind Cat, hand on the curve of her hip.

“Closer,” Cat commands again, and Kara wastes no time in pressing her against the sink, bodies molding together.

“Like this?” She whispers in Cat’s ear, hot breath on her neck. She’s got both hands on Cat’s hips now, bunching up her dress.

“Much better.” Cat leans back, resting her weight on Kara. Their eyes lock. She sneaks a hand in Kara’s hair, gives it an experimental tug.

Kara presses harder against her, lips parted in anticipation.

“Kiss me.”

Kara leans in – not into Cat’s lips, but into her neck, placing a wet kiss under Cat’s ear.

_ Oh. _

One of her hands pushes Cat’s hair aside with a small pleased hum. She places another kiss, tongue darting out to meet skin, slow and deliberate.

Cat looks at them on the mirror, shivers all over. “More.”

Then it’s teeth grazing the curve of her neck before taking a small bite, followed by soothing lips sucking on the same spot.

She can feel Kara smiling against her skin. “Like this?”

Cat tugs on Kara’s hair. “Yes,” she breathes out, eyes closing in bliss when Kara bites harder this time, pressing her hips forward.

Kara takes her time, mouth mapping every inch of skin with open mouthed kisses, nipping at her earlobe before coming back to slow flicks of tongue against her pulse point.

Cat’s curses under her breath, ass grinding against Kara on its own will. She can feel Kara everywhere, her entire body responding to that wonderful tongue.

She wants more.

She turns around and pulls Kara by the shirt so they can  _ finally _ kiss.

And, Kara, oh, she’s all business, no trace of awkwardness as she grabs Cat’s ass to get her on the sink, palming Cat’s thighs so they’re around Kara’s waist and there’s not a sliver of air between them.

Cat takes over the kiss, exploring Kara’s mouth thoroughly, swallowing Kara’s moan as she sinks her heels on the back of Kara’s legs.

Kara gives as good as she takes, raking her nails over Cat’s thighs, teasing the line between pleasure and pain, spreading Cat’s legs further apart.

She’s ruining a brand new Alexander McQueen, and Cat doesn’t even care.

She hasn’t felt like this in ages: breathless and flushed and  _ needy _ , ready to be fucked in a random bathroom.

It’s glorious.

Kara relinquishes her mouth; Cat gasps for air, pulls Kara in again to bite her upper lip.

“Come home with me.” Her voice is pure honey as she scratches the back of Kara’s neck.

“Hey,” Kara slows her down, steals a wet kiss. “I usually go home with people who take me on first dates.”

Then her mouth is on Cat’s throat, placing open mouthed kisses and small bites.

Cat whimpers, clings to Kara’s shoulders. She does not beg.

“Don’t you want to take me out, Cat?” Her name feels positively delicious on Kara’s lips. “Have me dress up for you,” she licks and kisses Cat’s collar bone, “dinner, maybe dancing,” she reaches Cat’s upper breast, pushing her dress out of the way, “getting me to invite you in for a last drink.”

Kara looks into Cat’s eyes and God, she’s both gorgeous and eager, waiting for an answer.

“You can say no. I’ll understand.”

Cat kisses that sad puppy look out of her. “Fine,” she concedes, bothered. “Saturday.”


	4. The Longest Wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you'll be happy to know I got carried away and there will be a 6th chapter. i couldn't help myself.

#  **IV: The Longest Wait**

Their Carcassone game lies forgotten.

Kara blushes and blushes and _blushes_.

Hank looks like a proud papa, that fool. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Kara.”

“The potential was always there,” Astra comes to her defense, giving everyone their beer bottles. “But the ‘like anyone could ever compare’ line was a…” She stops, searches for the word.

“Mic drop, honey.” Alex cuts in, poking Kara in the ribs.

Astra agrees, distracted. “Yes, that.”

James just laughs, having way too much fun.

\--

Kara bites her lip and presses her phone to her ear. “So?”

She can hear Hank’s sigh. “I delivered it.”

“Yeah, but d—“

“Yes, Kara. Calm down.” He gets assertive. “She liked them. She even smiled a little before sending me away.”

Score.

Kara beams. “You, sir, are the best secret agent.”

“I know,” Hank answers, affectionate. “You owe me one. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a club to run.”

\--

 

\--

She’s low key chewing on a cronut when her phone rings.

“Kara Danvers?”

She swallows her food. “Yes?”

“This is Cat Grant’s assistant. I’m calling to reschedule your Saturday appointment. Are you available the following Saturday?”

“Um,” Kara looks around, rubbing her sugary fingers on her pants. “Yes.”

“Great. I’ll update the schedule.”

Kara stares at her phone.

Did she just get stood up?

\--

She busies herself.

The inspections go smoothly, thanks to her attention to detail.

She hires even more people, and the site is in a constant buzz of men and women coming and going, working on different stages simultaneously.

She’s going to have this house ready by winter or her name is not Kara Danvers.

Cat doesn’t come by, calls, or texts.

\--

She _almost_ sends a tentative photo update, but gives up at the last second.

\--

Alex stands between Kara and the TV.

She arches a brow at the pint of ice cream. “Enough of this,” she says in her I-mean-business tone.

“Nope.” Kara answers, snuggling against the pillow, leaving the remnants of her Special Treat on the coffee table. “Willow and Tara just became friends. Give me six more hours.”

Astra is already stretching by the door.

“You’ve seen that season five times already, Kara. Buffy can wait.” Alex grabs her hands and pulls Kara up. “Change. You’re running with us until you stop sulking about your girl crush.”

Kara grunts and lets Alex push her to her bedroom. At least she had finished the ice cream.

They warm up together, until Astra looks at the both of them mischievously. “I say loser gets laundry duty for a month.”

Kara totally pushes them aside and sprints off as fast as she can.

\--

Alex and Kara would do it all the time when they were teens.

The Rules: choose a spot across town; make sure there are streets, parks, buildings and everything that could possibly get in their way; bet who could get there by feet first, by whichever means necessary.

She keeps her breath in check as she jumps over a bench, feet landing with a solid thud on the dirty path. She’s got no idea where Alex and Astra are.

There’s a school yard on her way, and she rushes right through their basketball game, taking the ball from a girl and passing it to another just because. She rushes through busy streets and red lights, parks and abandoned buildings.

She gets to their old family home and collapses on the soft, green grass, breathless and dirty and pumped with adrenaline.

Alex arrives second place, with Astra grunting right behind her. Alex leans forward, trying to catch her breath. She’s smiling and Kara’s smiling and she feels like she could take on the world.

“You’re the best sister,” Kara says, accepting the hand Alex offers.

“You bet.” Alex pulls her in for a one-arm hug. “Hamburgers? Astra’s paying.”

Astra mumbles something about the terms of their bet, but she foots the bill anyway.

\--

James brings her lunch because he’s the best person.

It’s delicious. Where did he learn how to cook?

“You know, if I had to marry a man, it’d be you.”

He smiles at her before getting distracted by his phone.

Kara leans into his side, trying to get a glimpse of the screen. “Is it Lucy? Are you texting? What are you talking about?”

He nudges her with his elbow, but doesn’t deny it.

“Have you kissed? Has she taken you to her fancy lawyer home and treated you right?”

He gives her a look that tries to be a glare but ends up warm and fluttery. “I’m taking her out for a picnic this Saturday.”

Kara sighs in delight. James is such a prince.

\--

Hank is on a road trip, James is on his date with Lucy, and Alex and Astra are having a relaxing spa weekend.

Kara got Stood Up By The _Assistant_ and she’s vacuuming the living room.

Worst Saturday in the history of ever.

There are not enough Robyn songs in the world to cheer her up, so she turns the TV on for white noise.

Of course there’s Cat Grant, Queen of All Media, in perfectly pressed blue slacks and a white shirt rolled up to the elbows, speaking live across the country about the fundamental right to water and distributing water gallons to the population.

God. The woman is probably going to be president some day, and Kara still has socks with holes in them.

\--

 

\--

Kara can’t resist.

Her eyes shift between the address on her phone, the front door, back to her phone, the door again, before she finally rings the bell.

The nanny opens the door and walks her inside.

The apartment is catalogue worthy, all glass and space and comfort, and probably worth more than Kara would make in a lifetime.

She wishes there had been time to clean up a little better, to change into a nicer shirt instead of her faded _Pizza Is My Bae_ hoodie.

\--

“Kara!” Carter pauses his Fifa match before running across the room in Kara’s direction. “Cool hoodie. What are you doing here?”

Kara ruffles his hair. “Dropping off some papers, Little Grant.”

“Adulting,” he says as he makes a face. “Gross.”

It’s a pretty compelling argument, so Kara just nods.

“Mom’s at her office. Come say hi when you’re done adulting,” he demands, and for a second there he’s a real life clone of his mother.

Kara grins just a little bit.

\--

Oh, what a _vision_ :

The hair stylist taking a step back, admiring his work;

The makeup artist, an attentive frown searching for irregularities and mistakes;

The seamstress placing the final pin on the ball gown;

Cat Grant standing up, fancy dress exposing her back, expensive jewelry on her ears, hair in flawless curls, and a too-inviting shade of lipstick.

A woman like that is not supposed to be real.

“Miss Grant,” Kara says meekly. Cat looks at her; Kara swallows dry. “I have the… documents.”

“Wonderful,” she says, taking them from Kara and throwing them on the nearest table.

“Everyone else. Leave,” she commands, a slow gesture of her hand being enough of a dismissal to empty the room. She doesn’t look away from Kara for a second. It’s exhilarating.

“I’m sorry about last Saturday. It was an emergency.” She palms Kara’s stomach, leaning in. It’s both convincing and arousing.

“It’s ok,” Kara lies, “I understand.”

She does. Cat is busy. She’s got things to do.

Kara just missed her, a little bit.

Cat hooks a finger on Kara’s belt loop and pulls her closer. “I’m looking forward to this Saturday.”

Her brain stops working. “Yeah?” She breathes out.

“Mhmm,” Cat almost purrs, taking a final step forward. Kara’s back hits the wall. How did she end up here? “You have no idea.”

Kara wets her lips. “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Oh,” Cat seems to consider it, “I’ll need to re-do my makeup, most definitely.”

Cat presses herself against Kara as she kisses her, sliding their lips together. Kara sighs into the kiss, palming Cat’s exposed back and feeling the lean muscles reacting to her touch.

“I want you,” Cat breathes into Kara’s mouth before joining their lips again, “to keep your hair down this weekend,” she breaks Kara’s hair free of its ponytail, running her hands through it with a low hum, “so I can play with it properly. Understand?”

“Anything you want,” Kara answers with a strangled moan, pulling Cat in again, sucking on her lower lip and letting it go with a wet sound.

“Good,” Cat groans, satisfied, mouth finding Kara’s neck.

\--

When the workers are laying down the pathways and the driveway, it hits her – she soon will have no excuse to bump into Cat Grant.

She needs to get her game on.

\--

Astra pulls the blanket down so Kara has to face her. “We have pizza.”

“I can’t eat right now, I’m _busy_ ,” Kara whines as she pulls the covers back over. “I have 21 hours left to panic and I’ll put every single one of them to good use!”

Alex sits on the armchair, already eating. “It’s pepperoni. You love pepperoni.”

Astra offers the plate again. Kara huffs and sits up, taking her food. She’s going to eat her anxiety away, the world be damned.

“We need a new plan for your date,” Astra says, munching her pizza. She looks at Kara, pensive.

Alex stares at Kara.

Kara churns her food.

“The plan is: my Harley Davidson and your biker jacket.” Astra nods to herself. “That’s all.”

Astra’s brain is definitely something to fear.

Alex relocates to Astra’s lap. “Honey, it’s both genius and evil.”

“All’s fair in love and war, isn’t it?” Astra steals a kiss before turning to Kara. “Don’t do anything to my bike, though.”

Kara straightens up and salutes. “Yes, General.”

\--

It’s really, _really_ fancy.

Kara fidgets as she follows the maître, trying not to stare at the men in impeccable suits and the women in expensive jewelry.

She’s the _definition_ of underdressed in her good jeans and her riding boots. She’s going to _kill_ Astra and Alex.

\--

Cat is wearing an off-the-shoulder blouse.

Kara’s eyes flutter, remembering how it felt to kiss that elegant neck and shoulder, to have Cat shuddering against her.

Cat’s on a call, giving orders about some kind of layouts. She does smile a little when she sees Kara, which has to be a victory, but she raises an amused eyebrow at Kara’s outfit, which cannot be a good sign.

“You’re late,” Cat says when she puts her phone back in her purse.

“Traffic,” Kara offers, and by “traffic” she means “I stared at the sign for a full 15 minutes before I had the courage to come inside”.

But traffic is simpler.

\--

She’s ruining it.

She got there late; she has to mimic Cat’s order because the menu is in French and she is clueless; she drinks the wine and doesn’t understand why the bottle costs 200 dollars; she stares and hesitates to choose between the cutlery.

Cat raises her eyebrow. Kara sighs.

It was much better when it was just them, teasing each other.

Not this crowd of waiters and sommeliers and clientele staring at her, and expensive tablecloth, soft napkins, 29 forks and an entire table between them.

\--

She excuses herself for a trip to the bathroom.

Some breathing space, no big deal.

She calls Alex.

“Hi, baby sister.” Her voice is clear, calm, always bringing Kara back to Earth. “How’s the date?”

“It sucks, Alex.” Kara paces back and forth, running a hand through her hair. “You should see this place. It’s like it came out of a movie.” She rubs her forehead and sighs. “She’s so out of my league she can’t even _see_ my league from where she’s standing.”

“Oh, honey,” Alex says into the phone, and Kara can practically _see_ her worried frown. “Don’t underestimate yourself. She’s going out with you because she sees something in you, too.”

“It was fun while we were at the site, or kissing at the DEO. It was simple. But I don’t know, Alex. I don’t know.”

“Hey,” Alex answers, firmer this time. “Don’t do this. Take her somewhere else. Make it less about the dishes and more about the two of you. Fight for the date. You can do it.”

It does make Kara smile a little bit. “You sound just like Astra, you know.”

“She rubs off.” Alex’s tone is playful. “Now go. Get the girl.”

\--

Kara takes a deep breath by the bar.

She has to turn this around -- this might be the only chance she has with Cat.

“You look like you need a drink.”

She looks at the guy, shakes her head. “I’m good, thanks.”

He raises his own beer, takes a sip. “I’m Adam.”

“Kara,” she answers, as neutral as she can. She doesn’t have time for boys.

He leans in. “So, what brings you here, Kara?”

That’s her ticket out. “Actually,” she says, gathering confidence and pointing at Cat Grant sipping wine in all her glory, “I’m on a date.”

Adam turns to look. “Wait.” He frowns, shifting in his seat. “You’re on a date with Cat Grant?”

Kara looks at her, gets enraptured for a moment. “Yes.”

Adam scoffs. “My condolences.” His smile turns to a grimace. “That woman is everyone’s worst nightmare.”

“Not really,” she cuts him short. Her stomach churns in all the wrong ways. “Not at all.”

“C’mon. She’s the Bitch of All Media. Doesn’t care for anyone but her career. I don’t know how you can stand her.”

Men and their unwanted opinions.

“Wow, ok.” Kara adjusts her glasses, posture shifting into a wider, more assertive stance. “You should really check your sources. She’s ambitious, tough and driven, yes, but that doesn’t make her a bitch. If she were a man, would anybody even blink at her behavior? She would be called a genius, a visionary.”

Adam tries to say something, but she raises one authoritative finger to shut him up.

“ _Second_ ,” she stresses the word, “it’s not up to women to carry everyone’s emotional burden. That’s the kind of invisible, taken-for-granted female work that chirps away at careers and keeps women out of several fields. And guess what? A woman who’s not catering to everyone’s wishes and feelings, eager to please and willing to help, is also called a bitch. Let’s not call women bitches, ever again. Ok? Great.”

She takes a deep breath, counts to ten. Her face is burning hot.

Adam shrugs, tries to be superior. “Whatever you say. I hope you’re getting something out of it, at least.”

“Oh, I am. I’m on a date with an amazing, gorgeous woman, who just might take me to bed later.”

She’s too busy glaring at him to realize there’s someone standing right behind her.

“Kara. I see you’ve met my son.”

Kara blinks three times. “What.” She looks at Cat, looks at Adam – the resemblance is obviously there: the tips of their noses, the lines of their jaws, their eyebrows furrowing the same way. “I mean—what?” What. She scoffs, nervously, and adjusts her glasses. “How much did you—?”

Cat’s expression is unreadable, but Kara can see the corners of her mouth lifting the slightest bit when their eyes lock. “Oh, I heard quite enough.”

Kara blushes furiously, heart racing.

Cat looks back to her son, impenetrable again. “Adam is my eldest son, from my first marriage.”

“Yeah. The one you left behind.”

Kara raises her eyebrows. That’s one bitter boy.

“Adam,” Cat answers, both a warning and a plea. Cat’s hand settles firmly on Kara’s shoulder, thumb brushing where it meets her neck.

Adam’s having none of that. “I thought you were better than dating someone half your age. It’s very midlife crisis. What is she? An intern? Your assistant? Embarrassing, Cat.”

He gestures at Kara like she’s _nothing_ , like she’s not even worth the time.

It’s a punch in the gut.

That’s it, right? She’s not fooling anyone — she’s a blue collar fish out of the water. She should leave and spare herself the embarrassment.

Cat’s hand on her shoulder, however, keeps her firmly in place. “I think you’ve said enough, young man.” Her voice trembles at the end. “You and I have our issues, but that’s no excuse to drag other people down with it.”

Adam stands up, nostrils flaring.

He towers over Cat.

Cat takes a step forward, unmoved by the intimidation. “Kara is my contractor, and I have no problem with that. I don’t date people for their job title.” Kara’s eyes snap to Cat’s gorgeous profile. Had she just—? Were they Officially _Dat_ —? “Kara is dedicated, resourceful and kind. She’s charming and she’s brave. That’s good enough for me.”

Every breath Kara had been holding is released at once. She looks at Cat in awe. “Babe.” She places a hand on Cat’s waist and squeezes to get her attention. “Let’s just leave.”

Cat places a lock of hair behind Kara’s ear and nods.

Adam looks at Kara. “You’ll see I’m right.”

Kara stands up. “You know, Adam, we eventually have to stop blaming our parents for everything and start taking responsibility. Be an adult.”

Bam. That’s some Charmander to Charmeleon evolution right there.

Kara rests her hand on Cat’s lower back as they leave.

\--

The coat room is empty and Cat is sighing, looking everywhere but Kara’s direction.

That’s got to change.

Kara’s hand wraps around Cat’s upper arm, slowing making its way to intertwine their fingers. “So I’m _charming_.”

Cat rolls her eyes, but doesn't move away; the lines on her face get smoother, softer. Victory point.

Then Cat grins, malicious. Oh man. “Don’t let it go to your head, _babe_.”

The thing is, Kara’s not even sorry. She shrugs, big grin on her face.

She takes the final step forward into Cat’s personal space. “I have an idea.” God, the woman smells _fine._ “Let’s move this date somewhere else. No fancy cutlery. No foreign language menus. No frustrated, angry relatives.”

Her free hand finds Cat’s waist. “Just me and you.”

“Well,” Cat clears her throat. “I assume you have somewhere in mind.”

Kara gives her best thousand megawatt smile.

She can do this.


	5. The Hot Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bros. you're all welcome.
> 
> also: i'm writing [LOTS OF HEADCANONS](http://beyondcanon.tumblr.com/tagged/fanfic%3A-work-from-home) on tumblr!!!! have you read it?? c'mon. you know you want it.

##  **V: The Hot Date**

The street is busy with young people in heavy makeup and couples in dates.

Kara’s black leather jacket is just settling on her shoulders as she runs a hand through her hair. She looks into Cat’s eyes, standing in her personal space. Her perfume intertwines with the smell of worn leather.

Cat looks back, licking her own lips.

Her free hand rests on Kara’s chest on its own will. “I’ll call the driver,” she says, tracing Kara’s lapel with the tips of her fingers.

“No need,” Kara says, pointing to her right. “I’ve got a ride.”

Cat looks to her side.

It’s a fucking _Harley Davidson_.

Kara’s look finally clicks – the boots, white v neck shirt, vintage _biker_ jacket.

Kara takes fucking _riding gloves_ out of her back pocket.

Cat kisses her right there, in the middle of the street, just outside the restaurant.

\--

Kara bites her lip to hide a smile, but the girl has no poker face.

Cat runs the tip of her index finger on the corner of her own mouth, cleaning the smudged lipstick.

Well.

Kara takes her jacket off. “You should take this,” she says, stepping behind Cat to help her put it on. “For protection.”

The jacket is obviously too big for Cat, but it feels comfortable. It smells like Kara.

Could be worse.

“Safety first,” Cat answers, snuggling against the fabric.

\--

She hasn’t gotten on a bike since before Carter was born.

“Ready?” Kara looks back one last time.

Cat nods and puts her helmet on. She trusts Kara.

They cut through the city, swift and certain.

She follows Kara’s lead when it’s time to tilt, and she might allow herself to press against Kara a little harder than necessary when the bike brakes.

She’s not ashamed of it.

Perks, that’s all.

\--

Unbelievable.

“Honestly, Kara.” Cat gives Kara her best glare. “A hot dog stand?”

Kara makes a sheepish face, a hand squeezing Cat’s hip. “Please? I’m _starving_.” She says, drawing out each word for impact. “This is the. Best. Hot dog stand. In the state!”

“Well then,” Cat concedes, rolling her eyes with a small sigh. "Chop chop."

Kara greets the hot dog man by name and asks for “her usual” – which apparently mean as many toppings as possible, on not one, but _two_ hot dogs.

She’s lucky she’s cute, honestly.

They sit on a bench nearby.

There’s a long, drawn out moment of unnecessary silence. Cat does not dwell in whether this means they have nothing in common. She does not even think about it.

“So,” Kara says before taking a big gulp of her Coke. “How was your week?”

Cat stares. People don't just ask Cat Grant how her week went.

“You know, after you dramatically traveled across the country to solve the water crisis with your bare hands?” Kara continues, taking a bite of her hot dog.

“You saw that?” Cat asks, surprised. Kara nods. “It was a passionate speech.” She admits, scooting closer to Kara. “The inaction of politicians regarding such a basic human right is downright appalling. They’re all white men financed by corporations, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to expose them in great detail.”

She takes a napkin and cleans Kara’s chin.

“I read your editorial.”

Cat sets the napkin aside. “What did you think?”

\--

She’s leaning into Kara’s side, telling her about Carter’s latest school project and _not_ staring at Kara’s fascinating aspiration of food.

“Cat,” Kara says, the name rolling easily off her tongue, “you’ve been flirting with this hotdog for a while now. Do you want a bite?”

Cat sits up straight, looks Kara in the eye. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s pretty delicious,” Kara says, taking a bite herself and humming. “So good.”

Cat rolls her eyes with endearment in spite of herself. “My body is a temple. No processed meat.”

“C’mon,” Kara says, leaning closer. “It’s not like you do this everyday. One little bite won’t hurt you.”

Cat glares. Kara doesn’t look away.

Cat sighs. “Don’t get used to it,” she warns before taking a bite.

Well. It is delectable, the sausage and the toppings somehow complementing each other. It also makes Kara stare at Cat’s mouth for longer than necessary.

“It’s not horrible,” Cat gives in, licking the mustard off her upper lip.

Kara smiles softly, like she knows better.

\--

If she’s being honest, just the visual of Kara taking her helmet off and running a hand through that silky, glorious hair is enough to make Cat’s mouth water.

\--

Any thoughts about firing her assistant for _clearly_ not informing Kara about the proper attire are forgotten: Kara looks perfectly at home among the late-20s to middle-30s alternative crowd at this Krypton place.

Kara hasn’t asked for her jacket back, and she’s got a steady hand on Cat’s waist as she guides them through the crowd, chivalrous and proper.

Cat doesn’t complain, but only because the jacket does give her a certain edge.

\--

A woman, full on Gay with a side cut, dark eyeliner and red flannel, shows up out of nowhere and squeezes Kara’s shoulder. “Kara!”

Kara’s face lights up immediately, and she smiles from ear to ear. “Vasquez!” They give each other some kind of lesbian bro hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

It’s only then the Vazquez woman notices Kara’s got company.

Kara gestures between them. “Vasquez, this is—”

“Wait.” Vasquez interrupts, eyes wide. Cat’s entire body tenses in expectation; she is not up for another public fight this evening. “You’re on a date with _Cat Grant_? Oh my God.” She looks at Kara before straightening up and turning to Cat. “It’s an honor to meet you, Miss Grant. I did a case study in my MBA about CatCo. You’re brilliant.”

Now _that’s_ a reaction.

Cat shakes the hand Vasquez offers, lazy smile on her lips. “The pleasure is mine.”

Kara squeezes Cat’s waist and shuffles closer, that show off. She’s obviously pleased with her friend’s reaction, so Cat decides to allow it.

“Vasquez and my sister used to work together.”

“Good times.” Vasquez nods. “Now we’re both busy business owners in serious relationships. But I do miss having you around, Baby Danvers.”

Cat looks at Kara, amused. Baby Danvers?

She will definitely file this for later use.

Kara blushes faintly, squeezes Cat’s waist. “We’ll drop by more often.”

Vasquez stops and thinks for a moment. “You know what? Your evening is on me. I want you to have a great time.” She intercepts a bartender. “Aziri, charge my tab for anything these ladies want, ok? And give them a pass to the VIP area.” The man nods, producing two passes from his pocket. Vasquez gives each of them one. “Have fun, girls. Miss Grant, I hope to see you again.”

Kara pulls Vasquez into another hug; Cat catches Vasquez’ whisper. “Way to go, Baby Danvers! What a catch!”

It’s hard to tell what pleases Cat more: the interaction or Kara’s bright red cheeks when Vasquez leaves.

\--

The DJ’s voice echoes through the club. “I’ve been told we’ve got someone very special in the audience tonight. Kara, this one is for you!”

Some ex-One Directioner starts to play; it’s absolutely indecent and a very clear Sex It Up message.

Kara has the decency to look a little flustered, biting her upper lip. “I didn’t—”

Cat can very much play this game.

“I think this is our cue.” Cat teases, standing up. Kara can’t take her eyes off her. “Are you coming?” She doesn’t look back to check if Kara is behind her as she parts the crowd and reaches the dance floor.

She doesn’t need to; a fraction of a second after she stops walking there’s someone hugging her from behind. “Going anywhere?” Kara’s breath is hot on her neck, bodies pressing together in the best way.

Cat hums in appreciation, hips starting to move with the beat, a delicious sexy downtempo.  “You tell me.”

She pushes her ass back against Kara, fully enjoying the choked gasp Kara makes. She tugs Kara’s hair to have her even closer. She hasn’t done this in a very long time, going out _dancing_ ; it makes her feel carefree and a different, lighter kind of powerful.

Not bad.

But then, oh, Kara starts to move perfectly with the beat, and her lips find Cat’s pulse point. Cat leans back against her, following her lead when she goes low, low, hips pressing against Cat’s, a hand low on her abdomen.

Fuck, this is better than expected.

She turns to Kara and pulls her into a searing kiss, both hands diving into Kara’s hair.

It’s a dam breaking.

Kara gets one hand on the back of Cat's neck and other dangerously low on her back. She tilts her head to deepen the kiss, tongue licking the roof of Cat's mouth, behind her teeth, before dancing hotly against Cat's tongue. Cat groans, tugging Kara’s hair, back arching into her.

Kara moans in Cat’s mouth, leaning forward eagerly when Cat pulls back, joining their lips again. She doesn’t give Cat a moment to think, sucking Cat’s tongue into her mouth, hands mapping her body.

The music gives into another, and then another. Cat loses count. It’s a perfect high, heart beating with the beat as she moves against Kara, biting on her lip and sinking her nails on her back under her shirt.

\--

Kara pushes Cat against a wall, thigh between Cat’s legs.

Fuck. Cat holds on to those strong shoulders, head thrown back as she grinds down.

Kara loses no time in kissing Cat’s neck just how she likes it, sucking hard, teeth scraping roughly just short of painful. She grabs Cat’s ass with both hands, bringing Cat against her thigh harder and faster.

It’s delicious, and not nearly enough.

The music around them swallows Cat’s breathless moans, but she still can hear Kara mumbling against her ear “babe, you’re so hot.”

Cat grunts. This girl is going to be the death of her. “Maybe we should,” she says, sinking her nails on Kara’s back, “move this to the VIP area.”

“Great idea,” Kara groans, before kissing Cat so wet and dirty it makes her toes curl.

\--

The VIP area is actually very respectable:

Impressive leather booths, soft blue and red lights, a private bar area and the perfect view of the dance floor below. Kara leads them to the farthest point, the one with silk curtains separating each booth area.

A waiter places a bucket of ice with a bottle of champagne on the table. “Your complimentary champagne, ladies.”

Cat dismisses him; Kara’s mouth is already doing wonders on her neck, and she’s losing her train of thought.

She barely waits for the curtains to close before pushing Kara against the couch and straddling her lap. She’s wet already, body aching for _something,_ and Kara’s eyes are pure hunger.

Kara’s lips are on hers as soon as possible, sucking on Cat’s lower lip as she shamelessly grabs her ass. Cat groans, taking a sharp breath as she grabs Kara’s shirt and grinds down on her, swallowing Kara’s breathless sigh into another heated kiss. Kara’s hands are quick to explore, holding the back of Cat’s neck possessively, sneaking under Cat’s blouse to feel her skin, cupping her breasts over her bra.

Her hips press against Kara’s thigh perfectly, and the pressure between her legs makes her whimper in Kara’s ear.

Kara’s sharp intake of breath echoes. “Cat,” she grumbles against Cat’s collar bone, “please.”

Cat tugs Kara’s hair sharply, making her look up. “If you want something, Kara, you should _take it_.”

She holds Kara’s gaze when the girl palms her thighs, hands traveling upwards until she’s _so close_ to where Cat needs her. With a frustrated sigh, Cat pulls Kara’s hand further up, moving her hips to rub herself against Kara’s fingers.

“Like this,” Cat hisses, biting her own lip.

Kara curses, still looking into Cat’s eyes as she palms her over her clothes, fingers pressing deliciously, but not nearly enough. “This would be,” Kara says, unzipping Cat’s pants, “a really good occasion for you to wear a dress.”

“Improvisation, darling,” Cat gasps when Kara pushes her underwear to the side and presses a finger against Cat’s clit, “is a gift.”

Kara just grunts, two fingers stroking Cat’s clit slow and firm, mouth latching to the valley of her breasts, making Cat’s entire body catch fire.

She holds on to Kara, nails sinking on her back, hips moving in tight circles. It’s still not enough.

“Make me come, Kara,” Cat groans low, and it does _things_ , because Kara flips them over, pushing Cat’s slacks further down and settling on top of her.

“Anything you want,” she says before she’s kissing Cat, tongue exploring Cat’s mouth. Cat pulls her closer, wrapping one leg around Kara’s waist as Kara’s hand sneaks between them. God, she’s going to be a fucked in a club and she _can’t wait_. What is it with Kara and public spaces?

Kara runs a finger through her folds, gathering the wetness and teasing at her entrance. “Fuck, Cat, you’re so wet.”

“All for you.” She breathes out, head thrown back in pleasure, hips canting in desperation. “All for you.”

It gets Kara’s fingers inside her, stretching her at once, setting a torturous drawn out pace. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

Cat whines, hips bucking against Kara’s hand, pressure already building. Kara’s kissing and sucking her neck, breathing against Cat’s skin, hot and desperate, short grunts and low moans. “I knew you’d be amazing,” she whimpers when Kara adds a third finger, “the first time I set my eyes on you.”

She’s so full, so stretched, so ready to come all over Kara’s fingers, and Kara’s thrusting faster, deeper, shaking them both; Cat comes with a sharp cry, chanting Kara’s name over and over again.

\--

Her entire body is thrumming with aftershocks.

She pulls up her pants with a contented sigh.

Kara starts licking her own fingers, still hovering over Cat, eyes closed in pleasure. Cat’s mouth dries as she watches the tip of Kara’s tongue twirling around those talented fingers, licking every drop of Cat’s orgasm.

Fuck. Cat grabs a fistful of Kara’s shirt and pulls, making sure their bodies are flush against each other again. She kisses Kara, growling when their tongues meet and she tastes herself.

Kara whimpers, helpless, tilting her head to give Cat better access. “You taste so good,” she grunts between kisses, hips pressing down on Cat’s.  “I—” she takes a heavy breath, steals a wet kiss, “I want my mouth—”

“Do you want your mouth on me, Kara?” Cat interrupts, sultry and inviting. Kara moans, lips parted in pure want. “Are you coming home with me this time, so I can ride that pretty face of yours?”

Kara just whimpers and nods, overwhelmed.

“Don’t make me wait, then,” Cat whispers in Kara’s ear, scratching the back of Kara’s neck.

“Never,” Kara groans, grabbing Cat’s ass to lift her up, joining their lips. Cat holds on to her, wrapping her legs tight around her waist, feeling herself grow even wetter.

So strong and so pliant. “Good girl,” Cat grins into the kiss, palming Kara’s muscled back for support.

“You should have everything you want, Miss Grant.”

Oh. Cat can get used to this very, very fast.

**Author's Note:**

> You know who doesn't leave comments and kudos? Supervillains, that's who.
> 
> PS. YOU SHOULD TOTALLY READ THIS STORY'S [HEADCANONS](http://beyondcanon.tumblr.com/tagged/fanfic%3A-work-from-home) on my tumblr!!!! and maybe ask me more stuff. and never leave me. group hug


End file.
